The stars above were hidden by low clouds, and the moon was little more than a sliver. Midnight cloaked the forest in shadows.
Shen Liun sat by the dwindling fire, sharpening Dawnmourne. The edge didn't need maintenance—not really—but the act kept his hands busy while his mind churned.
The bounty had changed everything.
He wasn't just hunted.
He was targeted.
Ning'er had gone to scout ahead again, searching for a path that might lead them to the Western passes. But Liun sensed something was coming—no, someone.
He heard her long before she stepped into the firelight.
Soft footsteps.
Graceful.
Not trying to hide.
She wore a black robe lined with crimson thread, her face half-veiled, revealing only one eye—brilliant silver, like moonlight on steel.
Shen Liun stood instantly, blade half-drawn.
"Easy," she said. Her voice was smooth. Controlled. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have come alone."
"That supposed to comfort me?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
She smiled faintly. "No. It's supposed to interest you."
Liun didn't lower his guard. "Who are you?"
She stepped closer, into the flickering orange light.
"My name is Xue Ranyi. Daughter of General Xue Han of the Crimson Serpent Army."
Liun's expression darkened.
That name… he knew it.
General Xue Han had been one of the commanders during the purge of the Emberfall Sect. A war hero to the Empire. A murderer to Liun's people.
"You should run," he said coldly.
She didn't flinch. "If I wanted to continue my father's legacy, I would've come with blades and banners. I came to offer something else."
He stared. "Go on."
She reached into her robes and pulled out a small scroll, bound in red silk. She tossed it into the dirt before him.
Liun unrolled it carefully.
Inside was a map—and a seal.
A seal he recognized. Burned into his memory.
The sigil of the Emberfall Sect.
"How did you get this?" he demanded.
"My father took trophies after the purge," she said. "He kept them hidden. But before he died last year… he left me everything. Including a journal. And in that journal, I learned the truth."
Liun didn't speak.
She continued, "He believed the Ashen Flame was too dangerous to be allowed to survive. That it would consume the empire. But even he—at the end—feared the Council more than the flame itself."
"What do you want from me?" Liun asked.
"An alliance," she said simply. "You want revenge. I want redemption."
He scoffed. "You think helping me will erase what your father did?"
"No," she said. "But it will oppose what he stood for. The Council used him like a sword. Then discarded him when his usefulness ended. I won't be a weapon."
Liun studied her. She was composed. Intelligent. Dangerous. But… sincere.
Still, sincerity meant nothing in this world.
"How do I know you're not here to earn favor with the Empire by feeding them my location?"
"You don't," she replied. "But I came alone, and I brought something else."
She removed a second scroll from her robes—older, wrapped in weathered leather.
"This," she said, "is a fragment of the True Flame Codex. I believe it once belonged to your sect. It describes the third path of Ashen cultivation."
Liun's breath caught.
Aoshen spoke immediately, his voice urgent.
> "That's real. Ancient. And dangerous. The Ashen Flame had three paths—Destruction, Rebirth… and something we lost long ago: Judgment."
He took the scroll carefully, eyes locked on her the entire time.
"If you're lying—"
"I'm not," she said. "You'll know when you read it."
Ning'er stepped into the clearing behind her, blade drawn, eyes burning.
Liun raised a hand.
"It's alright," he said. "We're talking."
Ning'er looked from him to the girl. "Who is she?"
"Someone offering information," Liun replied. "And asking for something more."
Ranyi bowed slightly to Ning'er. "I'm not here to divide. I'm here to help him reach the top—so he can burn down the world that built me."
Ning'er raised a brow. "You're bold."
"I was raised in an empire of liars," Ranyi said softly. "It taught me how to play the game. But I want to break the board."
Liun rolled the old scroll up and tucked it into his robes.
He didn't trust her. Not yet.
But he didn't dismiss her either.
Not yet.
"Then stay," he said. "One night. No promises."
She nodded.
The fire crackled between them.
Three people. One blade. Two bloodlines stained by war.
And the flame that refused to die.
---
Far away, in the Hall of Chains, the First Elder stood before a golden flame burning in a glass sphere.
It pulsed once.
Then again.
Then shattered.
He turned to the shadows behind him.
> "Begin the culling. Let the old sects rise from hiding. The boy cannot be allowed to reach the Judgment Path."
---